Risk and Reward
by wolvesinthenight
Summary: An Alphabet fic chronicling the life of Jane Shepard from "Lazarus Rising" (GarrusxFemshep) in 26 short chapters. Takes place from her childhood and includes some events from ME1.


**Hello! This is a side-project I'm working on. Its an alphabet story following the life of Jane Shepard from my fic _Lazarus Rising_ up until the events of ME1. I haven't read a lot of earthborn/sole survivor backstories (everyone seems to like colonist). Anyway, this is my take on it. Please enjoy and review!**

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1. Alone

There were cold toes and scraped knees, worn blankets and games of catch in the dirty streets, pinching, taunting, laughing . Sometimes there was burning hunger and other times there were full bellies lazy afternoons and scavenged treasures. Clawing, playing, fighting, always surviving. There were also kind hands, cheap peppermints and laughter that sounded like dry leaves and old secrets.

Clementine had died that winter.

Some months later Iggy left. Jane returned to their squat one-day to find his things gone, the air was stale and eery. He would not come back.

Jane Shepard was nine-years-old, or thereabouts. She'd been born April the 11th in the year 2156. Clementine had said she knew this for sure. In Jane's experience there wasn't a lot that the old women didn't know. When Clem had taught her and Iggy to write she'd started with those numbers- and her name too. A wizened finger, yellowed from old-fashioned cigarettes, traced each symbol on her tiny palm. Jane would then try and copy them onto pieces of paper or discarded notebooks- she even scratch it into a metal post on their street. She must've written her name and birthdate hundreds of times- maybe thousands, maybe millions. She knew big numbers like that- Clem had taught her those too. They made games with numbers and letters - Jane always won. The old women used to pat her head, bark out her scratchy laugh and tell her she was "sharp" and "bright". Iggy glowered at her from the corner when this happened. She ignored him - he was mean anyway. He pulled her hair and pinched her arms when no-one was looking.

The boy was bigger and stronger than her but Jane wasn't afraid of him. She blew raspberries in his direction and teased him about his funny ears every chance she got. On lucky days her small feet, nails or teeth found their mark and brought his antics to an abrupt and tearful end. No one messed with Jane Shepard.

They lived in the old factory district which was all but abandoned now. Few lived there, the area received no power and it was far from any amenities. With the discovery of the relays came new technology, centuries ahead of what they knew. In no time at all whole industries folded; warehouses and factories were abandoned; machinery left to rot- made redundant seemingly overnight. Outside her window grey buildings lay inert. Clementine told them that once upon a time their turrets had spewed black smoke into the sky. Jane couldn't imagine it. The tall windows were broken and left to a reveal the yawning blackness within. Those brave enough to venture inside these skeletons said the ceilings were so high they were lost in darkness; everywhere there were spare-parts and dead machinery, jutting out at all angles like discarded limbs.

When the weather was nice they'd go to the patch of grass by the abandoned toy warehouse. Iggy would explore the lonely remains of the structure and she would roll out on the unkempt lawn. Clementine loved stories. The old women spun tales for her about people living in times long past, ancient places before there were sky cars or even spaceships, before they knew what lay beyond the stars. Clementine gave her books that had pages of tiny, tiny words. Jane had sometimes found those boring, but she never told this to Clem.

And now she couldn't tell Clem even if she wanted; she was alone. The air smelled pungent and thick in the room, it coated her tongue and Jane knew she would leave her little home that night.

" I'm big now" Iggy had said a few nights earlier. He was almost thirteen, " I don't want to hang around with a baby like you- and a girl"

" Shut up, Iggy" she'd shrieked in reply, " I'm also big. I'm _not_ a baby"

The same conversation had been happening since they'd found Clementine one morning, cold and still. Iggy had run all the way down to the store on the edge of the district. It had been three hours before the police came followed by a dark-blue truck . She sounded out the writing on the side "CO-RO-NER". They hadn't sent an ambulance. Jane wasn't angry, she knew it was too late anyway. Old-folks didn't do well in the cold, they found a man in drafty stairway just the week before. Iggy told her his lips and eyelids were blue and that all his body had frozen solid. She wasn't sure if she believed _that_, what she did know is that Clementine who'd loved and cared for her since she could remember was dead.

When the police entered the run-down building of their squat everyone scattered. Jane scrambled down the rusty fire-escape and crossed the street. The police took no notice of the urchins.

She watched from a window in the building opposite as they eventually came down with a large gurney, atop it lay a long black and shiny bag that was zipped up completely. Jane knew that Clementine was gone forever now.

That night Iggy began to argue with her about leaving. She begged him to take her with but he refused. Jane had never once believed he'd actually go through with it

She pawed the dirty concrete with grubby shoes, her laces were mis-matched. She wasn't stupid, she wasn't a big baby like Iggy had told her. She was tough, she was"bright"- she could make it on her own. She knew the rules of the street even if Clementine had been looking out for her. She knew to move squats frequently, knew to keep herself clean. She could find food. Staying out of trouble was simple if you didn't steal from the wrong people and kept your head down.

She would be fine.

Jane Shepard gathered her things together, her extra set of clothes, her little collection of scavenged treasures and as many of Clementine's books that she could carry. The little girl was flushed with gratitude that Iggy hadn't filched anything of hers when he'd left.

Exiting the building she headed down the road and out of the factory district. She knew where she would go - the city. There it was far easier to make her way. She'd heard stories from older kids of fat purses waiting to be snatched and over-flowing garbage bins. She was bright, she was tough.


End file.
